I've been working on this piece for the magazine, and managed to finish a draft today. I wanted to put Rakim's "I Know You Got Soul" up here (you know for the "Been a long time, I shouldn't have left you") but I somehow I got diverted are started watching KRS-ONE's live shows. I love Rakim--still my favorite MC ever, with Raekwon and Nas coming in close. But KRS-ONE is almost a category to himself.
I didn't see KRS live until I was like 20 years old. Before then I knew him as a great MC, by which I mean an incredible lyricist with a great flow. But then I went away to college and saw him live. It's very hard to explain what happens (to this very day) at a KRS-ONE show. The first thing I need to say is KRS is a great, great performer--certainly the best rapper I've ever seen, and arguably the best performer I've seen bar none.
This is no small feat. I've never seen KRS with a band. He controls the crowd simply through voice and presence. For those of us who grew up controlling nothing, this has long had special meaning, and perhaps is key to understanding hip-hop's enduring power. At any rate, there are basically two KRS-ONEs. The first is the one I knew as a boy--an intellectual wordsmith, a philosopher. The second, the live one, I met later, is something else, something visceral and ferocious, something that represents beyond the artist himself.
The last time I saw KRS it was 1998. He came on stage and the baseline to "The Bridge Is Over" came on. He didn't say a word. He just walked the stage. The crowd went insane. People who'd never been to New York, or some no doubt from Queens itself, leaping in the air, chanting "The Bridge is over, The Bridge is over..." It was like his mere presence, the scowl on his face, his bop, combined with the music to transport us somewhere else.
This is nostalgia at its most powerful and meaningful. 1986 has a specific meaning to some of us. It's that era of Just-ICE, Mantronix and Sparky D, that moment just before hip-hop really broke (88, 89) and became one of the most significant artistic movement of the latter century. At that point it was really just a baby, but those of us who cradled it in the twin decks of our boom-boxes, out on porches, on benches, in projects, in dorm rooms, felt that we were watching something incredible happen. And then it did.
KRS represents that time--the Big Bang. His manic energy, his awkward freestyle, the way he mugs the crowd when "Still Number One" comes on. It's as if he takes in all of the dark energy of old, all that we felt on those streets addled with crack, haunted by Saturday Night Specials, drinks it and then radiates. You have to see him. Even now he is talismanic. A shaman of our lovely and painful past, who somehow stills move the crowd in this odd and different future.
I learned a long time ago to not speak of "greatest" anything in hip-hop unironically. But KRS has an actual claim to "greatest." There's nothing like him. I don't know that there ever will be.
Years of misleading coverage left viewers so misinformed that many were shocked when confronted with the actual costs of repeal.
As the Republican Party struggled and then failed to repeal and replace Obamacare, pulling a wildly unpopular bill from the House without even taking a vote, a flurry of insightful articles helped the public understand what exactly just happened. Robert Draper explained the roles that Stephen Bannon, Paul Ryan, and others played in deciding what agenda items President Trump would pursue in what order. Politicoreported on how and why the House Freedom Caucus insisted that the health care bill repeal even relatively popular parts of Obamacare. Lest anyone pin blame for the GOP’s failure on that faction, Reihan Salam argued persuasively that responsibility rests with poor leadership by House Speaker Paul Ryan and a GOP coalition with “policy goals that simply can’t be achieved.”
The program is based on the idea that habit-forming behaviors start in childhood.
At a Berlin day-care center, the children packed away all the toys: the cars, the tiny plastic animals, the blocks and Legos, even the board games and most of the art materials. They then stood in the empty classroom and looked at their two instructors.
“What should I do now?” my son, then 5, asked.
He did not get an answer to this question for a long time. His day-care center, or kita, was starting a toy-free kindergarten project. For several weeks, the toys would disappear, and the teachers wouldn’t tell the children what to play. While this practice may seem harsh, the project has an important pedagogic goal: to improve the children’s life skills to strengthen them against addictive behaviors in the future.
Democrats want the chair of the committee looking into collusion between the Trump administration and Russia to recuse himself, and hearings have ground to a halt for the moment.
Embattled House Intelligence Committee chairman Devin Nunes is now facing Democratic calls for his recusal from an investigation into the Trump administration’s ties to Russia, as the inquiry grinds to what is at least a temporary halt.
The California Republican has been on the hot seat since announcing last week that he had vague but significant information about “incidental collection” of information about Trump transition team members by U.S. intelligence agencies. “Incidental collection” is when the communications of someone who is not the target of surveillance are picked up because they are corresponding with a target.
The Sony World Photography Awards has announced the winners of its Open categories and National categories for 2017.
The Sony World Photography Awards, an annual competition hosted by the World Photography Organisation, has announced the winners of its Open categories and National categories for 2017. This year's contest attracted 227,596 entries from 183 countries. The organizers have again been kind enough to share some of the winners and runners-up with us, gathered below. All captions below come from the photographers.
In the final days of the Obama administration, scholars and journalists took stock of all that he had done to combat the dangerous rise of climate change. Barack Obama, they pronounced, had built up a surprisingly vast array of climate-concerned rules and guidelines across the government. He had turned the many policy-making tools of the many federal agencies toward preparing for this one imminent disaster.
Well, that was then.
On Tuesday, President Donald Trump will sign an executive order that will demolish his predecessor’s attempts to slow the pace of climate change. It is an omnibus directive that strikes across the federal government, reversing major rules that aim to restrict greenhouse-gas emissions while simultaneously instructing departments to ignore or downplay the risks of climate change in their decision-making.
Conservatives once warned that Obamacare would produce the Democratic Waterloo. Their inability to accept the principle of universal coverage has, instead, led to their own defeat.
Seven years and three days ago, the House of Representatives grumblingly voted to approve the Senate’s version of the Affordable Care Act. Democrats in the House were displeased by many of the changes introduced by Senate Democrats. But in the interval after Senate passage, the Republicans had gained a 41st seat in the Senate. Any further tinkering with the law could trigger a Republican filibuster. Rather than lose the whole thing, the House swallowed hard and accepted a bill that liberals regarded as a giveaway to insurance companies and other interest groups. The finished law proceeded to President Obama for signature on March 23, 2010.
A few minutes after the House vote, I wrote a short blog post for the website I edited in those days. The site had been founded early in 2009 to argue for a more modern and more moderate form of Republicanism. The timing could not have been worse. At precisely the moment we were urging the GOP to march in one direction, the great mass of conservatives and Republicans had turned on the double in the other, toward an ever more wild and even paranoid extremism. Those were the days of Glenn Beck’s 5 o’clock Fox News conspiracy rants, of Sarah Palin’s “death panels,” of Orly Taitz and her fellow Birthers, of Tea Party rallies at which men openly brandished assault rifles.
President Trump may feel liberated to pursue tax reform after the failure on health care. But the GOP’s to-do list in Congress only gets harder from here.
“In a way I’m glad I got it out of the way,” President Trump told the Washington Post last week in the moments after he and Republican leaders in Congress pulled the plug on their first major legislative priority, repealing and replacing the Affordable Care Act.
Health care was hard. Really hard. “Nobody knew that health care could be so complicated,” the president had said in a now-infamous quote. The health-care legislation was pulled without a vote last week after House Speaker Paul Ryan told the president there were not enough votes from Republicans to pass it.
The implication of Trump’s musings about the difficulty of passing complicated health-care legislation is that he believes the rest of his agenda will be much easier. Tax cuts? Everybody like tax cuts. The legendary border wall. More defense spending. A big, bipartisan infrastructure bill.
On Wednesday, Britain’s exit from the EU becomes very real. That doesn’t mean it’s going to go according to plan.
At 12:30 p.m. on Wednesday afternoon, Sir Tim Barrow, the U.K.’s permanent representative to the EU, will hand-deliver a letter from British Prime Minister Theresa May to the office of European Council President Donald Tusk in Brussels, officially notifying the European Union of the U.K.’s intention to leave the 60-year-old bloc. The delivery of that letter will trigger Article 50, the statute of the EU Lisbon Treaty governing the procedure for the withdrawal of a member state.
The highly anticipated—and, for many, much-dreaded—“Brexit day” has been the subject of endless agonizing and political maneuvering since long before last Monday, when May announced the specific date upon which she will begin the years-long process of removing the U.K. from the EU. Yet many analysts say Wednesday’s invocation of Article 50, the first time a member state has ever signaled its intention to leave the EU, will be uneventful.
The College Board earns over half of all its revenues from the courses—and, in an uncertain environment, students keep being suckered.
Fraudulent schemes come in all shapes and sizes. To work, they typically wear a patina of respectability. That's the case with Advanced Placement courses, one of the great frauds currently perpetrated on American high-school students.
That's a pretty strong claim, right? You bet. But why not be straightforward when discussing a scam the scale and audacity of which would raise Bernie Madoff's eyebrows?
The miscellany of AP courses offered in U.S. high schools under the imprimatur of the College Board probably started with good intentions. The idea, going back to the 1950s, was to offer college-level courses and exams to high-school students. The courses allegedly provide students the kind of rigorous academic experience they will encounter in college as well as an opportunity to earn college credit for the work.
The comedian’s two Netflix specials are loaded with brilliant storytelling, but suffer when they lose hold of his unique point of view.
Almost exactly halfway through Deep in the Heart of Texas, the second of his two comedy specials released on Netflix last week, Dave Chappelle does something unusual: He sits down. The live-wire comic perches on a stool in the center of the stage, plops his feet onto a speaker, and asks the crowd if anyone has a cigarette. He delivers the rest of the show like that, occasionally springing to his feet to drive home a punchline, then resting back on his stool to chat with his rapt audience. It gives the show a spontaneous, conversational feel, as if he’s telling stories the instant he thinks of them.
Of course, every move in a stand-up show is a calculated one, and Chappelle is a veteran of the form, using a looser approach to sell a shaggier, more anecdotal form of his comedy. It makes for an interesting contrast to his other Netflix special, The Age of Spin, a more composed, finely tuned set with an overarching structure (based around four brief encounters with O.J. Simpson over the course of his career). But though they’re wildly different shows, the strengths and weaknesses of Chappelle’s comedy comeback are consistent in each.